The Abilene reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1883-1888, 1887-12-15
PEASANT AND KING.
How the Latter Was Mado Known
TO the Former.

almost half the year at the great hunt
ing chateau of Blois, poor peasant
was cutting fagots on the border of a
small forest near the river Loire. lie
was dressed in a ragged hempen tunic
and had wooden shoes on his feet. His
cap was of fur, which he wore alike in
summer and in winter. He was cutting
the wood with small Ratchet, laying
the sticks in a pile. When he had made
a pile rs large as he could carry in his
arms, he bound it with green withes
and laid it on the back of his donkey.
which looked quite as forlorn and i'll
kept as its master.
AS he was binding one of the bundles
of fagots upon the animals back, he
was startled by the sound of hoof
strokes near him, and, gazing sharply
around. he saw a man approaching
mounted on large white horse. The
horseman was small, thin person,
well advanced in years, whose profile.
once seen, could not be forgotten;
hooked nose. a protruding chin, a brow
full of wrinkles, grizzled hair, short
grizzled beard, and stiff gray mustache,
bristling like a cats. His alert, up
right carriage bespoke mistaken vigor,
and his clear eye was full of buoyant
life. He was dressed in slashed doub-
let and trunk-hose of black velvet; a
scarlet sash was over his shoulder,
hat with long sweeping white plume
ION his head, and he wore tall cavalry
boots that came up to his knees.
Some officer of the King guard who
has lost his way" thought the peasant,
as he resumed his labor. Perhaps l
can do him benefit. A good turn will
help him, and it won't make my trouble
more"
Meanwhile the stranger was glancing
-doubtfully around. and seeing the wood
cutter, accosted him with a frank.
hearty voice, that yet had something of
Il tone of command.
"Halloa. my friend, can'st tell me
how far it is to the castle, and whether
This road will lead me thither?"
''Nay; your honor has certainly gone
wrong. Blois lies in the opposite direc-
.tiop, at a distance, should say. of half
n dozen leagues"
Il was pretty certain had lost my
way, but l did not suppose had wan
,dercG 50 far in the wrong direction
said the officer. $50 it is near twenty
miles TO the chateau"
"Yes, all of that by the highway"
answered the peasant. "You must fol-
low this path till you come to tall
coax, and then take your right till you
.come to n wood where the road forks,
and you follow the left round a big
park.
Il shall certainly lose my way again
if try to follow your directions. And
uhe horseman shrugged his shoulders
and looked rather grave. ''Can you
not guide me to Bl0is?'
NAY, can not leave my work."
answered the peasant. lifting his greasy
cap and scratching his head obviously.
Il would cheerfully help your honor,
but my master would not pay me for
days work when leave my tasks and
ride off to chatter with one of the Kings
Officers"
so thou knowest me then as belong
ing to the court? Well. my good fell
low, if you will help me you shall not
lose by it. What do you earn day?'
Sometimes half n franc, and other
days twice that You see it depends
.on the weather."
''Well, here's a ten-franc piece; so 90
with me. You need not lose your MORN
ing's work, for if mistake not, yOnder
"cOt is yours, and our path lies past it."
The poor man demurred no further;
the gold piece the officer had given him
was more money than he could have
earned any other way in a whole fort
night.
"Ah. your honor" said he, wiping a
tear from his eye, you do not know
how much good this money will do me.
j would like to know the name of so
generous q gentleman, so that / and
my wife might bless you in our
prayers.
'.No matter about my name. replied |
the stranger, with kind smile you
can pray as well without knowing, and
God will understand whom you mean"
But though the horseman smiled, his |
FACE was very grave and thoughtful as |
ihe noticed the mean and miserable |
abode of the poor woodchopper. 1t was
u small, tumble-dOwn hut of mud and |
thatch, and was hardly habitable. The |
woodcutter's wife. pale. sickly looking
woman, stood in the door with a CRYING
babe IN her arms, and poor, skinny
Nanny-goat was bleating disconsolate-
", tied 10 stake.
What brought you to this degree of
poverty" asked the sympathetic officer,
AS they rode on together. "You appear
10 be strong and willing to labor
Misfortune, your honor, has brought
eme into this Decline answered the
aaborer. Il have always been unfor-
aunate. This little farm belonged to
my wife; her parents, who were both
old. died on the same day, after a long
and tedious illpess. Then my two chill